


Checking Out of the Heartbreak Hotel

by misura



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character is ashamed of needing help/comfort, Hangover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:28:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24305170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: Otabek's plan to get himself drunk enough to confess his feelings to Yuri ends with a less than great morning after.
Relationships: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 8
Kudos: 62
Collections: Hurt Comfort Exchange 2020





	Checking Out of the Heartbreak Hotel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theglitterati](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theglitterati/gifts).



Otabek Altin woke to two realizations, the second being that he was still alive, which he supposed must be considered a good thing. Dead men did not take home the gold - and if, in this very moment, having survived last night felt like a mixed blessing at best, then surely that would pass.

The first was that someone wanted to see him. Loudly.

Otabek did not think _he_ wanted to see anyone, at any volume. On the other hand, it would be awkward to have someone break down the door to his hotel room. He would need to call reception, and then probably some other people, and at best they'd move him to another room.

So. He would open the door, he would speak with whomever was on the other side, and then they would leave. Compared to coming in second in the Grand Prix Final, it ought to be easy.

It didn't _feel_ easy. Still, he managed to cross the room without the floor smacking him in the face, so that was something. Otabek, one; floor, zero.

He was successful in not letting the door smack him in the face either, though the door handle put up a bit of a fight. His stomach seemed to finally wake up as well and decided to side with his head, which had launched a campaign to either kill him outright or make him wish it would.

Yuri - because of course it had to be Yuri; it couldn't have been someone else, anyone else - stared at him and then said, "You look like crap."

Otabek could tell it hadn't been what Yuri had meant to say. Then again, he spent a lot of time not saying things to Yuri which he had meant to say himself.

"I'm fine," he said. The walls to either side of him were starting to look like they considered smacking him.

Yuri narrowed his eyes and said, "Liar."

Otabek considered repeating his earlier statement, but that would really make him a liar, and Yuri was a friend. "I think I drank a bit too much champaign last night."

"No kidding." Yuri pushed forwards and Otabek stepped aside, mostly because he didn't want to end up falling over and dragging Yuri down with him. "Idiot."

Otabek tried to decide what to do next. Lying down, closing his eyes and hoping that he'd be able to fall back asleep sounded ideal, but with Yuri there, that would be difficult as well as rude. Yuri hadn't come here to watch Otabek try to sleep.

Yuri probably also hadn't come here because he had worked out _why_ Otabek had thought drinking too much champaign had sounded like a good idea.

Otabek shuffled back to his bed, sitting down on the edge.

Yuri glowered at him as if he was considering smacking Otabek. "You should stay hydrated."

Otabek tried to picture himself walking to the bathroom and filling a glass with water.

Yuri huffed and got up. Otabek wished he had the guts to tell Yuri to leave. His own fault that Yuri hadn't yet: if only he'd held it together long enough to convince Yuri that he was fine, Yuri would have left, and then everything would have been all right.

Instead, Yuri was still here. Any moment now, Otabek knew something would smack him in the face, or his head would split clean down the middle, or something else would happen, and then Yuri would realize what a weakling Otabek was. They wouldn't be able to stay friends after that. Otabek knew Yuri hated weakness, and weaklings, and cowards, and people who thought he looked cute with cat's ears.

(Yuri _did_ look cute with cat's ears. Otabek had at least a dozen pictures of Yuri-with-cat's-ears on his phone, each one feeling like a dirty little secret he should be ashamed of keeping.)

As if knowing exactly what Otabek was thinking, Yuri emptied a glass of water over his head.

Otabek said nothing. He didn't move. His head hurt slightly less, he realized.

Yuri muttered something and went back for a refill. This time, he offered the glass to Otabek, who told himself that he didn't feel so bad that he couldn't hold a glass of water upright for a few seconds.

"Would you like me to get you a towel?" Yuri asked, sitting down. He sounded half-nervous and half-annoyed.

Of course, Yuri had every right to be annoyed. They were friends. Otabek was breaking the rules. He should have been stronger, not making Yuri nervous.

"No," he said and then, because Yuri had done nothing wrong, "Thank you."

Yuri scowled and curled up in his chair - _like a kitten,_ Otabek thought, already bracing himself for another dash of cold water.

Yuri's mind-reading powers seemed to have deserted him, though. He didn't look happy, but he didn't look like he planned on leaving soon either.

Otabek didn't mind silence under normal circumstances. He tried not to mind now, either. It was nice to have Yuri here, he told himself. He liked Yuri. He liked Yuri a lot, more than Yuri knew, probably, and one of these days, Otabek really was going to tell Yuri and see if maybe - but not now.

He should probably be grateful he hadn't managed it last night. It would have made the current situation even more awkward.

"You want any food?" Yuri asked. He sounded ready to run out of the door and mug someone.

Otabek's stomach suggested there was only one safe answer. "No. Thank you."

Yuri scowled deeper, or harder, or whatever the right word was. Otabek's headache was coming back. He wondered what it would take to make Yuri dump another glass of water on him.

"I think - " Otabek started, meaning to add, _'you should leave now'_ , except that Yuri had begun to say something at the same time, starting with, "Why did you - "

They both stopped talking at the same time. The silence felt more awkward now.

Otabek opened his mouth to try again, seeing Yuri do the same thing. It would have been funny under other circumstances. Maybe it was still funny now. Maybe Otabek should stop acting like a weakling - it was just a headache, after all - and instead count himself lucky to have Yuri as his friend.

"Why did you ask _Victor_ to help you back to your room?" Yuri asked. "Last night, at the banquet," he added, as if he worried Otabek might have forgotten. "I was right there."

Otabek remembered how he had felt, the first time he'd taken Yuri for a ride on his motorcycle. He'd felt pretty good about himself then. Like a real hero, the man who would be bringing home a gold medal to make his country proud, to make people all over the world know Kazakhstan existed.

"I didn't ask," Otabek said. "He offered." And Otabek had accepted, because he'd been pretty drunk by then, and he'd been worried that if he let Yuri get too close, Otabek would ruin everything.

"That's no excuse!" Yuri snapped. "I'm your friend! Me! Not stupid Victor!"

"I apologize if I hurt your feelings," Otabek said. "Such was not my intention."

Yuri grumbled and muttered for a bit.

 _'I think Yurio is very lucky to have made a friend like you,'_ Victor had told him, not seeming to mind Otabek stepping on his feet or barely being able to remember how to walk, and Otabek had looked at the golden ring glittering on Victor's hand and thought that maybe Victor understood and noticed a lot more than people (well, mostly Yuri) gave him credit for.

"You really do look like shit," Yuri said. He made it sound like an accusation, which was probably fair.

Otabek had no one to blame but himself for how he felt. He'd promised himself that he'd find Yuri and tell him about his feelings just as soon as he'd finished this one last glass of champaign to work up his courage, to make him feel a little less awkward and anxious and like a person who had never had to consider how to tell a friend that he wanted them to be his boyfriend as well.

Otabek swallowed. His mouth felt dry, his hands felt clammy and his head was still hurting. He wanted to tell Yuri again that he was fine, but then Yuri would only call him a lair again and refuse to leave, so what was the point? Yuri _knew_. Insisting Yuri was wrong would only make him sound like an idiot.

"I feel - not great," Otabek said. He felt a bit disgusted with himself.

Yuri's expression was surprised, as if he'd expected Otabek to lie again. Maybe he should have, Otabek thought. Maybe he'd have been able to convince Yuri after all.

"You should - maybe lie down?" Yuri jumped out of his chair as if it had burnt him. "Can I get you anything? More water? Food? Medicine? A book? A CD?"

Otabek reached for his pillow, only to have Yuri snatch it away and shake it a few times.

"There," Yuri said, putting the pillow back. "That's better. More blankets? Would you like me to close the curtains? Oh, you should take off your clothes. They're wet. You're not going to be able to sleep in wet clothes. Sorry. That's my fault."

Otabek swallowed. Yuri wasn't wrong, as such; Otabek _did_ need to get out of his wet clothes, but -

"I can help," Yuri said. It sounded more like a threat than an offer.

Strangely, that made Otabek feel a bit better about accepting it. He was weak, and ill, and Yuri was strong, and healthy, and his friend.

"These were not the circumstances under which I imagined you taking off my clothes," Otabek said, because it seemed that if he was going to make a mess of everything, he was going to be thorough about it.

"Shut up," Yuri said, either flushing with annoyance or blushing. Then he kissed Otabek - on his cheek, which was probably wise, even if hang-overs supposedly weren't contagious. "Sleep. Idiot."

Otabek lay back, resisting the temptation to touch his cheek, eyes closed, trying to do as he'd been told.

He heard Yuri mutter, "Idiot," again, and then the sound of the door, not closing.


End file.
